


An Offer You Can't Refuse

by tiny_freakin_head



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_freakin_head/pseuds/tiny_freakin_head
Summary: Miss Pauling knows just how to get what she wants, and she wants only the best.***A roleplay between M and T (who are both TFH)





	An Offer You Can't Refuse

Miss Pauling waltzed into the police precinct, went to the counter and promptly paid bail for the young man—practically a boy, really—who she needed to see. When he stepped out of the cell, she offered him her hand. “Hello, Jeremy. I’m Miss Pauling. I just paid your bail, and now we’re going to have lunch. My treat.”

Jeremy blinked at the pretty young woman who’d just gotten him out of the cell. He’d spent a long, cold, miserable night terrified one of his cellmates would stab him—or worse—worried he’d be sent to jail and his ma would be evicted anyway and he’d never get to see her again…

Guiding him with a hand on his elbow, Miss Pauling took him to a nearby diner, sitting them in a quiet booth and letting him order before asking for a coffee with room for cream.

“Jeremy, I know you’re in a bit of trouble right now, and I’ve come to offer you a solution,” she got right to the point, not wanting to dance around it.

“Who…who are you?” Their family hadn’t been to church in years, but she looked and sounded exactly the way he’d pictured the Devil when Father Sullivan talked about temptation.

“I work for an organization that could use someone with your talents.” She spoke softly, but with confidence. “We’ve had our eye on you for a couple years now. You’re very fast, and we know you can be dangerous.”

“I…” Jeremy lowered his voice and leaned closer to her. She smelled amazing, like make-up and flowers. He shook his head. She wouldn’t get him that easily. “How do you know all this stuff about me?” He gave her his fiercest glare—she’d said he was dangerous after all. “Have you been _following_ my family?”

“Yes,” she said, quite honestly. “Some of your brothers are dangerous men, and our organization is always keeping an eye on people like that. But you stand out from them, Jeremy, you’re much faster than any of them. What I’m offering you is a job. A chance to help your mother out. A way to stay out of trouble, and out of jail.” She sipped her coffee, watching him over the rim of her cup.

There she was. She’d just gotten him out of a jail cell, and now she was offering everything he’d ever wanted—the ability to help his mother, recognition that he was special, better than all his brothers. Definitely the Devil. Biting his lip, he frantically tried to come up with a prayer, but all he could think was the stupid joke version of the Lord’s Prayer his brother Nathan had made up to make him laugh during church and get in trouble. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be scared off if he said ‘a monk swimming’.

“Here,” Miss Pauling pulled a folder out of her bag and pushed it across the table to him. “These are the details. It’s dangerous work, but your life is guaranteed safe. Your pay is there at the top. That’s hourly. It would require you to live in New Mexico, away from your family. And you would be required to learn how to handle a gun.”

Too bad he hadn’t worn a cross in years. As if what she said wasn’t temptation enough, she was also one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and she was paying so much attention, telling him things about himself that _he_ knew but no one else seemed to. _I’m going to hell,_ he thought, even as he opened the folder. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw the circled number with a dollar sign beside it. “H-hourly?”

She nodded. If nothing else, she knew money was the way to her new Scout. The promise of helping his mother who was in danger of being evicted from their little apartment was too good to refuse. “Do you have any questions?”

“Are you the Devil?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

Miss Pauling laughed. “No, I’m not. But the company I work for isn’t going to make the world a better place,” she said bluntly. “You’ll be a mercenary, paid to kill.”

Jeremy scoffed. “I don’t care about _the world._ As long as I’m not going to hell and neither is my ma…I don’t care.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Still, I feel like the Devil probably wouldn’t just come right out and say it. Can you prove it?”

After a moment, she pulled a little cross out from under her shirt, showing it to Jeremy before tucking it back in. It was a bad idea as a mercenary and all around fix-it person to wear a necklace, so she kept it hidden, but she’d worn it since she was a young girl. “Do you have any questions about the work?”

Visibly relieved, Jeremy nodded, satisfied. “Okay. Killing people, you said?”

“Yes. It’s more complicated than that, but you will be killing people, and you will sustain injuries. If you read your folder, it will explain in greater detail. I can give you a week to decide, then I will call you for your answer. For now,” she passed an envelope across the table. “This will keep your mother from being evicted. It will be easier for me to get a hold of you if I know where to call.”

“O-okay.” Jeremy slid the envelope closer to himself, picked it up. He realized he was clutching it to his chest like a shield, and he made himself put it on the table again. This woman was small—maybe even shorter than his ma—but somehow she still managed to be terrifying. “W-what’s the catch?” he asked, irritated at how shaky and boyish his voice sounded.

She sighed. “It’s complicated,” she repeated. “The work involves death. Not only the death of your enemies, but your own. There is a system called respawn. If you die on the job, you come back a moment later in a different place. Unhurt. It’s a strange experience, but worth it for what amounts to immortality.”

“What if I say no?” He didn’t take his hand off the envelope.

“Then we find another Scout,” she said simply. “We have a second and third choice lined up.”

“That’s it? You don’t…threaten my ma or something?” Jeremy couldn’t help grinning. “But I _am_ your _first_ choice, right?”

“We find that mercenaries who have been threatened into work are less likely to work their hardest for us. This way we get a willing Scout and no one needs to be threatened.” She smiled back at him. “And yes, you are our first choice. I’ve seen you run. You’ll need that speed for your work.”

He hoped she didn’t notice his blush when she said she’d seen him run. “Pretty impressive, huh?” He gave his best babe-wooing grin.

Apparently a little flattery could go a long way too. “Very.” She finished her coffee. “I’ll let you decide. You can expect my call in a week, unless you’ve already decided one way or the other?”

He frowned, thoughtfully. “If I say no, do I get to keep this?” He tapped the envelope.

“Yes.” Miss Pauling had carefully worked her budget for hiring the mercenaries. She’d still have some left over, the way she had planned it. What she’d given Jeremy was the bare minimum to keep him and his mother in their apartment for another month.

“Just…gimme a sec.” Jeremy closed his eyes. Either way, he and his ma wouldn’t be thrown out of their apartment—maybe he could give some of it back and they could throw out useless Charlie, though. Jeremy and all his brothers—except Charlie—contributed as much as they could to their ma, but most of his older brothers, even the ones with good jobs, had kids of their own now and his ma would never want to take money from her grandbabies. Jeremy didn’t see much hope of getting anything but fired from shitty job after shitty job, just for refusing to let some asshole talk down to him. His dreams of being a professional baseball player… He shied away from the thought. It was still too painful. That was kids’ stuff. This… He could turn everything around, prove himself to everyone, take care of his ma all by himself, the way she always had for him. He opened his eyes, met hers. “I’ll…I’ll do it.”

“I’m glad,” Miss Pauling reached over the table, offering him her hand to shake. “Welcome aboard, Scout.”

Scout. He liked the sound of that. He shook her hand, really really hoping he wouldn’t start crying as he pictured handing over the envelope to his ma.


End file.
